The Killing Joke
by The Emcee
Summary: The Joker has a secret life and a secret side few know about. The final chapter is up!
1. Chapter 1

The Emcee: So I'm really excited about the Dark Knight movie coming out in July so I decided to write a story. Yes, I know, I'm a dork. So sue me. I own nothing but the stories in my head.

The Killing Joke - Prologue

1:21 am. Weather: raining with the possibility of homicide later in the week. Staring out the window, it's as black as ebony outside. One can hardly even see down the dark alley way of this old, decrepit building. Must've been a warehouse or something of that nature, but now it's abandoned. Therefore, it is the perfect place to hide out. Who'd really want to sneak around a drug infested neighborhood, specifically a warehouse? No one, not even a drug dealer, that's for damn sure. At least the roof is in alright condition. A few wet spots here and there but stable enough to live under…for the time being. 

Restless, I get up from my position on the window sill that over looks before mentioned dark alley way. I need to stretch my legs. I decided to give Gotham the day off. Not to be nice; being nice is just…strange. But _she_ needed help; something for school. Speaking of her….

Walking over to the make shift bed constructed of a mattress and various blankets, pillows, and other articles, I sit down. She's asleep; as she should be since she has "school" tomorrow. My darling, baby girl Alyssa. The name suits her, after all it was her mother's middle name. Shocking, isn't it? That I, the Joker, could possibly have a child. More shocking is that I'm taking care of her. 

I suppose it is out of love, although I've forgotten how that feels. Maybe part of it is out of guilt. How was I supposed to know that Alice had gone into premature labor when I was out breaking into the chemical plant(1)? How was I supposed to know that Alice would die in child birth? 

I know by now that blaming myself hasn't and isn't going to help, but one can't stop and think of the "what if"s. So many feelings…accompanied by the memories… Perhaps that is a weakness of mine, although I couldn't say for sure since I have so little of them. Cocky, yes, but that's me. It's a part of my nature, my very strange nature. 

I get up and walk over to the broken window just about five feet from Alyssa. Looking at the clock, I see that it's not 1:59 am. How time flies when you bring up your past; if only that were a joke.

(1): For those of you that don't know/remember, the Joker used to be an engineer working at a chemical plant. He quit for be a comedian, failed, and when he went to break into the plant were he worked, he was informed that his wife and unborn child had died in an accident. I changed the story a little bit, I know, I realize that. DON'T JUDGE ME!


	2. Chapter 2

The Emcee: It's been awhile. But here's Chapter 1! Hope you enjoy.

The Killing Joke - Why So Serious?

I hate school. Really hate it. I like to learn, don't get me wrong. But the other kids here make me hate it. They constantly pick on me and the fact that I have no friends doesn't help. I'm alone here. I'd rather be at home with Dad. At least **he** doesn't think I'm strange.

Our way of life isn't that strange. I mean, we've always gotten by. Sure, we live in an abandoned warehouse in a drug infested neighborhood. We've also lived in a car, shed, and various other housing arrangements. The warehouse is the roomiest by far though. And so what if we aren't rich? Big deal.

And I'm not as oblivious as Dad thinks I am. I've heard news castings and read paper articles on Batman's newest opponent: The Joker. My Dad. What with all the explosives, weapons, and various other criminal trappings around home, who couldn't put the pieces together? Of course, pictures have helped. I've seen plenty to last me a life time.

The press always says the same thing: 'the psychotic killer strikes again!' or 'the criminal master mind with zero empathy and no principles continues to live Gotham in disarray'. Yes, my father has some…issues to say the very least. But he's never laid a hand on me or threatened me in anyway. Yelling at me, he's done that, but only when I've gotten into trouble. I inherited that from him.

The bell rings and school is dismissed. Thank God; I want to get out and go home, away from society. I gather my belongings and head out the door, knocking into a few people on the way. My long red hair covers half my face and I ignore the sounds of protest behind me.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Billy, a jock with an IQ lower than a sewer pipe, grabs my backpack and turns me around, forcibly. I look down, refusing to meet his stare.

"What do you want, Billy?" I mumble, glaring at the ground.

"You show me some fucking respect, witch! Look at me while I'm talking to you!" He shakes me and I look up at him through my sea of hair.

Billy is indeed a big boy. Five foot ten, muscular, short, spiky brown hair, with brown eyes to match it. The star quarter back on the football team and in every single class of mine. The very definition of jock and my example of a class A ape. He smirks.

"That's better." He pulls me so our faces are only inches apart. "The next time you bump into me and don't say you're sorry, I'm gonna cut off that pretty red hair of yours." He throws me onto the muddy ground and leaves, his gang of goons and whores trailing behind, laughing.

I get up and look myself over. My black jacket, leggings, and skirt were covered in the mud I was dropped onto. Not good. If Dad sees this, there's going to be questions. I start again on my way home; my converse shoes splashing in the water. It rained the night before.

It takes me about twenty five minutes to walk from school to home; thirty minutes today, thanks to Billy. The people that pass me by stare at my muddied clothes. I hate it when that happens; I hate anyone besides Dad paying attention to me. It makes me feel weird. At school, when I get called on to answer questions I always stutter and mumble. Very embarrassing.

I enter my home, our home. The warehouse. Parts of the roof leaked, and besides the broken windows scattered around, it isn't a bad place. When you'd first enter the place, you'd enter a large room; the largest. Where most of the work was done, from back in this warehouse's glory days. Other smaller rooms were farther back from the main one. Below was the basement, which was combined of three rooms total.

The second floor was the place that was our homing area. On the second floor was were the warehouse manager's office was. That's were Dad and I stayed, for the most part. It was the most comfortable area to settle. We both had beds and the necessities needed. After school, I rarely went outside that room. Dad would have friends over most nights and in the morning more packages would be down stairs. To be honest, I didn't like his friends.

On occasion, I'd meet a few, going or coming home from school. I didn't care for any of them. And on occasion, Dad would be gone for days at a time and he'd come back, more recently now a days, injured. When I'd ask, he'd either not answer or just shrug it off, claiming it was an answer. He thinks he can keep me out of the loop. But what with the press and all that, it's hard to not find out things about Dad's other side. I want to talk to him about it. When he gets home tonight, I will.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know. It's been a while. I just want to get this story exactly right, in my perspective. I'm going about it very carefully. It'd be amazing if anyone had any ides or suggestions or anything like that. It'd be very help.**

The Killing Joke - Let's Put A Smile On That Face

It was late at night when I was woken up from the noises below on the first floor. Dad must be home. Carefully, as quietly as I could manage, I got up and walked out of the room. I listened to the commotion going on below as I neared the stairs, sitting on the top few steps. Eavesdropping, I know, but I was curious. By the sounds of it, there were more people than just Dad. I crept down another few steps to get a better look.

"Where do you want this box, boss?" some bozo in a clown mask asked Dad. Besides him, there were three other henchmen, all with clown masks. How appropriate. Dad had his back towards me, although I doubt anyone could see me at all.

"Ah, just put it down…wherever, 'kay? Could ya do that for me, pinky?" My father's voice rang out with the same tone he almost always had when in a good mood. Just with a hint of authority.

After the henchmen brought in a few more boxes and crates of whatever items they held, the left on the order from Dad. A little hesitant, but I could see why; as they departed, the last guy was shot. I couldn't see very well since the lights weren't all functioning. But I could make out other silhouettes because the one that belonged to Dad and the dead guy laying on the floor.

"I just…didn't like him," maniacal laughter rung throughout the building. Loud enough to make me cringe in slight irritation. Having lived with that laughter my whole life, it tends to annoy to no end.

I leaned against the wall in a drowsy state, eyes closing once more for sleep. All I heard were feet shuffling about, boxes or crates being moved, metal clattering together, and so on. Maybe I did fall asleep. It was only when Dad called out to me that I woke up.

"Alyssa? What are ya doin' sleeping on the stairs, silly?" My eyes opened automatically and my arms reached up to stretch, feeling slightly stiff.

"I heard you come in and I was wondering what the hubbub was about," I said, yawning the last part of my sentence. Dad just nodded and started up the stairs.

"I dunno about you, but I'd prefer sleeping in a bed than on the stairs. They might give way." I stood up and went back to the room with him following close behind. I got back into bed and curled under the covers. Dad just sat on the edge of his bed, taking out his favored pocket knife and began examining it.

"Ya wanna know how I got these scars, Alyssa?" he asked in a far away tone, almost as if he himself was in awe or wonder of the tool he held in his very hand. I sighed.

"What's the story _**this**_ time Dad? You always come up with different stories…" He shook his head.

"No, no. I'm gonna tell you the really story this time." That was surprising. Never once has he ever mentioned his family…my grandparents aunts or uncles or whatever family we **did** have. Why now?

"I grew up in a cold house hold, Alys. Colder than Antarctica. Do you get the point?" I nodded. "Good. My father was…a drinker and a fiend. And my mother…mommy dearest, didn't give a rat's ass about me. Just her damned husband and her image. As if she had one to begin with.

"You see, she never wanted children. Never. She hated children. And yet, you'd think she'd have enough sense to prevent her 'biggest mistake', wouldn't you? No, no. So, from a very early age I knew that I was never wanted or needed. Not once. Not by my mother - certainly not by her- or my father or anyone at the schools I went to. I can't remember getting any slight affection from my parents. Except for my father." He paused and ran his bare fingers along the knife's blade.

"My father…When he'd drink, he'd go off crazier than usual. Imagine, trying, and failing, to walk around…anywhere with bruises so bad that you couldn't walk at all. Bruises so bad that you couldn't even hide the tears pouring down your face. Well, when you cried in front of my father," he spat, angrily "you got a worse beating. That was the one thing I knew for sure. And as a teenager, I was desperate. What for, even I didn't know. But I wanted something, anything.

"I'd seen other teens at school injure themselves to get attention from parents, teachers, friends, lovers, anyone. Mutilate themselves so badly, it left permanent scars on their arms and bodies. I knew some who did it to scare people off and that's where I got to thinking'. Maybe, I'd think to myself, maybe if **I** were to give myself some hideous markings, maybe I'd be left alone. By that point, I didn't want my parents' affection. I just wanted to be left alone." He paused. I started at him, curling tighter under the blankets. Even for my father, this was weird.

"So, I did this," he pointed to his scars with his knife, "to myself. And boy, did I get a reaction from everybody! Daddy thought it was funny at first, until Mommy went hysterical over it. At first, she was shocked, then she started yelling. And finally, after crying and yelling so much, she could bare to look at me. Or rather, she couldn't bare to have her friends or neighbors see her son like this. And she, ah, killed herself." I winced.

This was the first time I heard any of this. It was surprising, to be honest. When I was younger, I thought my grandparents didn't exist, since Dad had never brought them up. But as I got older, and as he told more sinister tales of how he got those scars, I knew he had them. Often, in his scar tales, he'd use them, so I figured that, in the really event, they definitely took some part of it. I just never knew how bad it truly was. But then again, he never really spoke anything of it until now…

"You can only imagine how my Dad felt about that. He blamed me for it. Every chance he got, he'd bring it up." _You fucking monster! You killed your own mother! Are you happy now, huh? Are ya?! __**ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?! **_"Then one day, I couldn't take it anymore. And I erased him from the picture." He stopped talking for a long time after that. I thought he'd fallen asleep. But I sensed that he was still awake, and my curiosity got the better hand of me.

"What did you do to him? To your father, I mean?" My voice sounded so small in my ears that I was surprised he heard me. He chuckled, almost in a sarcastic sense.

"Lets just say that I put a smile on his face. And various body parts in several states, to go along with that." I nodded and closed my eyes, hoping that I'd fall asleep soon.

**A/N: So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Like it okay? Please tell me; I'm dying to know! T.T**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It's been too damn long, hasn't it? Well, after months of working out the kinks, here is chapter 4. Feel free to comment. Enjoy!**

The Killing Joke - You've Changed Things

When I woke up for school, I found that Dad had already left, which wasn't all that surprising. Getting out of bed, I stretched for a minute before heading for my box of clothes. After rummaging through what was there that wasn't dirty, I finally picked out a pair of loose, dark flare jeans, a band t-shirt, and socks. Sighing, I began my normal routine. Today was going to be a long day - I just knew it.

The first four periods went by quickly, and for that I'm thankful. It's lunch time now, and I'm sitting by myself at a table in the darkest corner of the room. Granted, the whole cafeteria was pretty well lit but still, there's always a corner to hide away in. I was idly picking at my apple - it was the only thing free in the place - when I heard someone sit down at my table. No one sat at this table but me, and the fact that someone was making such a bold move both annoyed and startled me. Looking up, I see this boy - a new kid probably - who I've never seen before.

He had obviously dyed black hair which was styled in a chop-cut layered do. He must be emo. What he wore was similar to my outfit: a band shirt, chucks, but he's wearing tight jeans. How the hell did he fit in those?

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and sighed, staring ay my apple, which was currently sitting on the table top.

"…You already are, aren't you?" He laughed, sounding nervous. Odd; what's there to be nervous about?

"You're Alyssa, aren't you?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm in your classes… You don't pay attention much do you? I've had to introduce myself four times so far." He's right; I don't pay much attention.

I nodded, still staring at me apple. "Pretty much… What is your name again?"

He laughed; it was a loud, warm laugh, similar to Dad's whenever I try, and fail, to tell him a joke. "It's Dwayne, Dwayne Warner." I looked over at him once, seeing him lean back in his chair, before I replaced my gaze on my fruit. He spoke up once more. "I like you, Alyssa."

That was startling. Very much so, actually. Since moving here, I've never had one friend, not one. People think I'm a poor, slutty, white trash whore with no intelligence or feelings. While it's true that I am poor, I'm no whore or slut. I've never even kissed a guy for crying out loud. But people just automatically assume upon appearance. Stupid prejudice bastards. I look up at Dwayne still in shock mode.

"You…you like me? How? I mean, why on earth would you like me? No one around this place likes me. Besides, you barely even know me, so you can't like me." The bell rings, and I grab my bag. "This is absurd."

I make my way to my next class, English. Once inside, I take my usual seat in back of the class in a corner. Looking up, I see Dwayne enter the room and walk over towards me. He takes the empty seat on my left. I sigh and glance over at him, catching his gaze. Just as class starts, he leans in close to my ear.

"Just to let you know, I was only speaking in terms of friendship."

************************************************************************

"Oh, wonderful. This is great…" I spoke quietly to myself in my most sarcastic tone. I'm standing in front of the warehouse doors where I usually enter. There's a piece of paper taped to it with writing similar to Dad's on it.

It reads:

_Hey Alyssa! I've the most wonderful of news for you, girly! But I can't tell you on this note. Sorry __L__ Anyway, I want you to go to this address written below. I have a surprise for you!!! __J_

_Love Dad._

_1325 North Gotham Street. _

I sighed, something I've been doing a lot of today thanks to Dwayne. Tightening my hold on my school bag, I start off for the location of the address, wondering what on earth Dad was up to.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So here is the next chapter! Yes, it has been a while, but like I said, I want to do this right. So, read and enjoy. Comment if you'd like!

The Killing Joke - To Them, You're Just A Freak

I glared up at the towering building in front of me before shifting my gaze to the note that Dad wrote me, and then back up at the building. I was at 1325 North Gotham Street, which was the sight of a rather impressive - in my perspective - apartment building. Okay, I think I'm starting to understand what Dad has planned.

It makes sense; a teacher in one of my classes, history I believe, was talking about a bank robbery that happened this morning. So if Dad was behind that it would explain how he'd be able to afford to rent an apartment. Feeling a little nervous now, as it was approaching night, I begin to circle the building, looking to see if Dad left anymore notes or something to that extent.

After fifteen minutes of searching, I came up empty handed and sighed, slumping against the wall of the apartment building. What do I do now? It's still early for Gotham so Dad won't show up until very late, if he even does show up… Biting my lip, I started towards the entrance of the building. Maybe the lady at the desk would know something.

I entered the building, feeling a sudden gush of warm air blow past me. The lobby was nice, with warm wooden floors and furniture. The ceiling looked like marble or something close to it, and everything smelled fresh and not wet and damp, like the warehouse. My wandering eyes fell upon the lady at the desk, who was already smiling at me. She was older, maybe in her late forties early fifties, and she wore a pale pink sweater.

Feeling more nervous than before, I hesitantly approached her, not knowing exactly what to say. I chewed on my lip and looked briefly at the newspapers and magazines along the case behind her desk. Then I looked at the lady and she continued smiling.

"H-hi," I finally spoke, my voice cracking.

"Hello, dear. You must be Alyssa."

"Y-yes, I am. How did you know my name?"

"Your father was in here very early this morning and we arranged an apartment for the both of you." Dad was in here? Like, he was actually inside this building early this morning? Wouldn't he be noticeable to this woman, especially with his make up on? I'm not sure if this was good or not.

"He w-was?" I asked. I hate speaking to strangers like this lady, even if she did seem nice. She nodded and bent below the counter, shifting things from here to there and so on, until she resurfaced with a key.

"Yep. We got you both moved in and settled all nice and pretty like. So, don't worry about that part, deary. Your father told me that he'd do all the unpacking so I left him at it. Everything should feel just like home. Here's your key; the apartment number is 113. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me, honey." I nodded, taking the key from her. I started for the stairwell before I stopped and turned around.

"Um, what is your name?"

"It's Beth, dear. But most people around here call me Granny. Either one is fine." She smiled and I went up the stairs. I passed the first floor that had apartments one through fifty. I proceeded up past the second floor where apartments fifty-one to a hundred were. At the third floor door, I stopped and breathed in sharply, not knowing what to expect now. I opened the door and entered the third floor.

Walking down the long hallway, I looked back and forth from apartment to apartment. They all looked so nice and…expensive, although anything looks expensive to me. I passed the first ten apartments, before I slowed down, looking at apartment one hundred and eleven to apartment one hundred and twelve. Finally, I stopped and looked up at the door to apartment one hundred and thirteen. I gulped, feeling nervous. It was my very first time in an apartment complex and Dad rarely gathered up surprises and the ones he had gathered were when I was a little kid, so I didn't remember them. With a shaking hand, I put the key into the hole and turned it, opening the door cautiously and carefully.

Once it was opened, I gasped. There was actual furniture in the apartment living room. Furniture that was bought and paid for! Holy cow! We've never had our own furniture before, except for our make shift beds, but those really don't count, do they? The couch was a nice dark blue and looked soft to the touch. A few feet away was a love seat and a recliner. In front of the couch was a wooden coffee table, and there was even a television set! I was gasping in awe; this really was a surprise. From behind me the door closed and I turned to see Dad smiling with such childish delight.

"Surprise Alyssa!!!" He hugged me in his tight vice grip hug and then let me go after a moment or so. "Sorry I had to let you find your own way here, but I knew you'd manage kiddo." Dad tugged one of my arms, pulling me down the hallway. "Look, we have a nice little bathroom, Alyss."

I peered inside and made an "oh" shape with my mouth. The bathroom was rather nice. It had nice, clean white tile floors, with a white toilet and bathtub/shower. There were even towels, soap, and toilet paper. It was very nice indeed. I like it immediately. It was so cozy and home like; a bathroom any normal family would have. Before I was done looking over the bathroom, Dad had drugged me down the hall and stopped in front of a closed door. He turned to me, a big grin on his face and he was giggling.

"This is your room, Alyssa. I just know that you'll love it!" Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he opened the door gently, and I gasped as I stepped into my room.

The walls were the most beautiful shade of purple I'd ever seen. There was a twin bed that had purple and black leopard spotted covers on them, with matching pillows. Across from my bed was a desk with a lamp on it and a computer! Holy cow! I'd never had a computer before. Sure, I had to use them in school, but only for school projects, and if I was paired with a partner they'd do all the tinkering. In addition to that, there was a dresser and closet, and a night stand beside my bed. It was so beautiful I felt like crying. It must've been expensive. I turned up to look at Dad who was staring at my already, still grinning. I hugged him tightly, not knowing what to say.

He hugged me back, squeezing me as he did so. It wasn't until then that I realized that I had missed him. Dad had been around less and less nowadays and with all the commotion being raised I hadn't had much time to think about it. I pulled away from the hug and stared up at him. "Dad, how in the world did you afford all this? Even the apartment itself. I mean, just how-?"

"I did a job or two here and there. That's all." He shrugged, still grinning ear to ear.

"Bank jobs, Dad? Not very subtle." He chuckled and ruffled my hair.

"Who ever said that I was going for subtle? You can go ahead and rummage through your closet and such. I'll order some food. I dunno about you kid, but I am starving!"

Later that night, I was sitting on the sofa with Dad, writing in my notebook and watching television. It felt nice, having him here beside me; it felt normal. I looked over at Dad and saw that although he was staring right at the television, he wasn't actually watching the show that was on. He was thinking about something.

"Dad, are you okay?" I asked, not really sure if he'd heard me or not. He continued staring for a minute before he blinked a couple of times and turned to me.

"Huh? What? Sorry, Alyssa, I was thinking. What did you say?"

"I asked if you were okay."

"Oh, yeah. I'm doing just fine kiddo." He turned his gaze back to the TV and I turned mine back to my notebook, not sure if I should say anything else or not. After five solid minutes, Dad spoke again. "Alyssa… you might not be seeing much of me the next few days."

I knew something like this would happen. There had to have been a reason for him getting the apartment aside from the fact that it's a place of decent shelter. I kept staring at my notebook. "What do you mean, Dad?"

He sighed. "I mean that I have a job that I need to take care of and I won't be around. But don't worry. I'm not going to disappear completely."

"No, just temporarily, like always. Right, Dad? That's how it always is." He turned his eyes back to me, frowning.

"Now, Alyssa, that's not being entirely fair here."

"**I'm** not being fair? Dad, I've rarely seen you in the past week, and all of a sudden you come out of the blue with this place! You've had other jobs in the past before, but you've always come home. So right now what you're saying is that you'd rather carrying out your illegal schemes than get a decent job where I'd be able to see you at least a few times a week!" I slammed my notebook shut and got up to go to my room. Dad caught my wrist before I left and I turned to face him, not bothering to hide the tears any longer.

"Alyssa, you know that I love you very much! I want the best for you and I will do anything to get you the best, okay?!"

"How do you know what's best for me Dad? You haven't been around much lately, remember?" I pulled free of his grasp and left, hurrying to my room and slamming the door closed. I flung myself on my bed and cried until I fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It seems like every time I write one of these I always say that it's been awhile xD and it has been. I'm going to try to update all of my stories that aren't finished this weekend. Well, here's the long await chapter! R&R, enjoy.**

The Killing Joke - There's No Going Back

I woke up early in the morning with a headache and feeling like crap. Glancing at the alarm clock beside my bed - I didn't even realize I had one - I saw that I had about an hour and a half before I had to go to school. With stiff legs, I got up and left my room, heading towards the bathroom.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I grimaced. I looked just as bad, if not worse, than I felt. My hair was sticking up all over the place and I had blanket impressions on my right cheek. Lovely. Quickly, I stripped down and got in the shower, moaning with pleasure when the hot water hit me. It felt so damn good, I thought that I'd stand in there forever. But time was of the essence.

On one of the little shelves, I found shampoo and conditioner, surprised that Dad had actually bought both. Dad… The thought of him brought back our fight the night before and I sighed, closing my eyes and keeping them closed as I washed my hair.

Sure, we'd fought in the past, but this time felt different. It felt like I really would never see him again. Rinsing my hair, I laughed at myself. That was silly, wasn't it? Even if he was pissed at me, Dad would at least come to check up on me. Right? He wouldn't just abandon me, would he? Somehow, I wasn't entirely sure about that.

After I cleaned my body, I turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel and drying myself. I took a combed to my hair and brushed it, anxious to get the day done and over with. I returned to my room and opened my closet. Sure enough, there were brand new clothes hung up, and that made my stomach clench.

I was beginning to feel bad about snapping at Dad last night. Maybe I should've been more understanding; I mean I don't know exactly **what** he does every single day. I don't know what he has to deal with and put up with. He's probably stressed enough without having me jump down his throat.

Biting my lip, I shifted through the various garments before coming to a nice, soft dark purple shirt, a pair of black jeans, and a thin hoodie. When I had finished dressing I looked over at my clock and saw that I had a half hour before the first bell rang. Grabbing my book bag and my chucks, I went out to the living room and sat down on the couch. Once I had my shoes on and had checked to make sure I had everything for my classes, I got up and left the apartment, making sure that my key was in my pocket seeing as how I locked the door.

It was chilly, but it wasn't as bad as the day before. Maybe because I was in a hallway that was kept warm. I wasn't sure. The one lone window at the opposite end of the hall allowed enough light to enter to light up the entire wing. It felt nice, being the open and light. As I made my way down the hall to the stairwell, a door behind me opened and someone called out my name.

"Alyssa! I didn't know you live here." Turning sideways to see the person who called out my name, I was shocked to find Dwayne lightly jogging down the hall towards me.

"I..I just moved in." I stammered. He stopped once he got to me and smiled. He looked cute when he smiled… WOAH! I did not just think that!

"Really? Well, it's nice to finally have a neighbor around my own age. Mom told me that not many teens live here."

"I wonder why…" We made out way down the stairs and outside. He chattered nonstop almost half the way to school. I blocked him out most of the way, but caught the last bit of our 'conversation'.

"I'm sorry. I haven't stopped talking since we left, have I? I guess it's a nervous habit." I looked up at him, confused.

"Why are you nervous?" The school was in sight, but by that point we had both stopped. He was a few feet ahead of me. Shuffling his feet, Dwayne looked down in embarrassment and shrugged at my question.

"That's how I am around people I don't really know."

I stared at him for a bit and then sighed. Before he moved here, no one ever talked to me unless it was to tease me and push me around. No one even bothered to try to get to know me, not even the teachers. To all of them, I was a scapegoat of some sort, a nobody. So after a life time of wishing for one friend, for one person who will give me the time of day, he finally arrives. And I treat him like an enemy. Nodding, I lock my gaze to the ground and kick lightly at it.

"Yeah… I… I'm like that too." Sighing again, I looked up to see him staring at me, his head cocked to the side giving the impression that he's a confused little puppy. "No one's ever given a rat's ass about me, except for my dad. It's hard to open up to people if you've never had any friends."

He took a few steps closer, a gentle smile placed on his lips. With one swift motion, he pulled me to his chest and gave me a hug, squeezing me a bit as he did so. I felt my face flush. No guy other than Dad had ever hugged me before. Add in the fact that I barely knew this kid and I was even more embarrassed. For some reason, I also felt like a skank, like one of those girls who bangs a guy she hardly even knows.

Taking a deep breath, I cautiously hugged him back, my arms and hands barely even touching him. Dwayne was my first friend, and we can't be friends unless I take the initiative as well. It felt weird, but a good sort of weird to be hugged. That is, until I heard them.

"Well, well, well, look at the little love birds." Billy's voice rang out loudly and looking up, I found that nearly everyone was staring at us, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"What do you want, Billy?" I grumbled, stepping back from Dwayne, keeping my glare towards the ground. My red hair falls in fiery waves around my face, helping to curtain my embarrassment and anger. I hear Billy's heavy foot steps approach me, and soon found myself lifted into the air.

"What did I tell you about respect, you conceited little bitch?" he growled threateningly, and for the first time, I genuinely felt frightened of him. But I let my temper get the better of me, and instead of staying meek, I replied with a smart-ass comment.

"But I am showing you all the respect you deserve, which is the equivalent to one." Had I not been in such a position, I would've given myself a point.

"C'mon. Leave her alone! She hasn't done anything to you." Dwayne began to stalk towards Billy when one of his goons grabbed him and pinned his arms behind his back. I heard Dwayne hiss, and was about to look over when Billy jerked me closer to his face.

"What did I tell you before?" He snarled, his hot putrid breath making me want to gag. I knew that I was in deep trouble now. "Didn't I tell you that if you didn't show me respect that I'd chop off that hair of yours?" I gulped. Looking around, I saw only Billy's friends where in earshot. Everyone else either stopped to laugh and then moved on, or ignored the scene completely.

Without any thought or care he threw me down on the ground hard. Landing on my stomach, it felt as if the wind was knocked out of me. Pulling myself up, I managed to see that Billy had taken out his razor. He kicked me down before he pulled me back up, an evil grin plastered on his face.

"I'm gonna give you a nice hair cut." And with that said, he went to work. It hurt like nothing else he had done to me. Pulling my hair tight, I felt him cut off my hair. Bit by bit, piece by piece, the red strands fell in nasty clumps all around me. I heard him breathe heavily as he yanked me back closer to him as he cut. It didn't take him long to finish the job, but he wasn't going to let me slide that easy.

After destroying my hair, he and a few of his goons, not including the one who was keeping Dwayne hostage, began to pulverize me. All the while, Dwayne struggled to break free. His protests as fell on deaf ears, however, as they kept beating me. Finally, the first bell rang, and they left, leaving me and Dwayne behind to face the results.

Looking up, I saw that Dwayne had tears in his eyes, but they didn't fall. Cautiously, he approached me, but I shrank back. No longer could I look him in the eye. I don't think I'd ever be able to look anyone in the eye now. Heaving and gasping, panting and coughing for the damage Billy and his friends had done, I inched away from Dwayne, crying out in pain when I first move.

"Alyssa! I-"

"Stay away." It hurt for me to speak, but I had to. I had to be left alone, I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to go get help. "Ju-just…just leave… Leave me…alone." And with that, I passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well, I've decided that I'm going to try and update as soon as possible. I've run into a rather hard spot in my life right now, but I don't want to leave my stories unfinished. I feel like I owe it to the stories and to the readers to write new chapters and progress as much as possible until the end. I want to thank all of you who have read my stories and who have been patient with me. Without further adieu, I present the next chapter of The Killing Joke.**

**The Killing Joke - Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?**

**It felt like ages since I was last awake. For some reason, I felt as though a whole year had passed by while I lay dormant, unmoving and lifeless. I could hardly remember anything that had happened to me, though I recalled a few things, like Billy. While I can't put a face with the name yet, I felt fear and anxiety whenever I thought of him or his name, and that made me cringe inwardly. For whatever reason I was in this state - whatever state it is that I'm in - I get the feeling that that Billy kid had something to do with it. **

**And the noises around. They made little sense to me as I slowly crept back to the land of the living, released from whatever dungeon I had been locked away in. All the beeping sounds, the footsteps, the voices that didn't make sense and that sounded like utter gibberish, none of it made sense. My understand for why I heard such sounds escaped me completely and it made me feel frightened and alone, more alone than ever before. **

**If the sounds through me off, then the smells left me entirely flabbergasted. Smells of ammonia and disinfectants were everywhere. That, and a sour sort of smell. One that I couldn't place, and one that I really didn't want** to place. It sent shivers up my spine. But there was one scent that was missing, one that I surely thought would be around, but wasn't.

Dad. Where was he? Why wasn't he here? When I needed him the most, needed him to fight away all the demons that plagued my mind and body, where was he?

Maybe he was here, but just masked by all of the overpowering smells and sounds that surrounded me. Yes, surely, he must be near by. If I opened my eyes he would be right beside me. Right?

Slowly, I began the frightfully tiresome act of opening my eyes. My lids felt heavy, like they were somehow telling me that it wasn't time to wake up yet, but I had to know. God, why were my eyelids so heavy? Why is it so hard just to open my eyes?

Somehow, through a difficult session of false self-empowerment and determination, my eyes final opened to reveal a ceiling with bright lights that battered down relentlessly on my poor eyes. Quickly, I shut them, only to reopen them a few seconds later. I blinked a few times to adjust myself, and then I saw the life that was around me.

For some odd reason, I was in a white room, a hospital room, with monitors and screens and various equipment and supplies that I didn't know what they were used for or why they were there. I didn't even know why I was in the room. I tried moving my head, only to find a sharp throbbing pain emerge as I did so. Perhaps it'd be best if I didn't move my head at all.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to remember how and why I was in here. There were brief glimpses, snap shots almost, of blurred images. Then after a few minutes the snap shots became more focused, but hard to understand since they were only fragments and not the entire series of events. The sound of shuffling feet approaching made me open my eyes. A nurse stepped into the room and inhaled sharply after seeing me.

"You're awake. I'll alter the doctor right after I'm finished here." With her clipboard, the brunette nurse checked the machines, occasionally scribbling on her board. When she was finished with that, she turned her attention on me once again. She strapped the blood pressure device onto my arm and began pumping.

"How are you feeling?" She was focused, but seemed nice and relaxed.

"Confused, and my head hurts. I can't really remember why I'm here. Everything's a jumbled mess."

She nodded, finally done with taking my blood pressure. "I understand. I'm done here so far so I'll go tell the doctor you're awake. If you need anything, there's a button on the wall a few feet from your bed. Don't be afraid to push it." I nodded and winced as pain erupted once again. The nurse left, leaving me alone and in deep thought.

I refocused my attention on what happened, on those confusing snap shots that were floating around my head. There was one of Dwayne, that new kid, and I walking. In another one, I saw the school building coming into the frame as we walked closer. I saw a group of kids walking towards us. No, not walking, but stalking us with a predatory stance that made me cringe. Finally, I saw Billy, the kid whose name sent shivers of fear along my entire body.

And then everything exploded. All the memories of what happened. Billy and his gang of goons surrounding Dwayne and myself. Dwayne being restrained as Billy pushed me down onto the ground. Billy taking out his knife and cutting my hair. I stopped thinking, horror enveloping me at the thought of what he did. Although I figured it would hurt to move any part of my body, I had to know. Hesitantly, I lifted my hands up and started to feel around my face.

Under my fingertips were bandages, small cuts, and possibly a few bruises, if the wincing momentary pain I experienced from poking my skin told me anything. Filled with dread and horror, I continued moving my hands up my face until they reached my hairline, or what would've been my hairline. All I could feel were more bandages, but they were so close to my scalp. Too close. Looking around the room, I noticed that there were no mirrors.

While I wasn't a frequent visitor to hospitals, I knew well enough that there was at least one mirror in the room and another in the bathroom. But my room had no mirrors. A tightening in the stomach hit me hard, just like the punches Billy graced my body with. Shock set in, accompanied by horror and a small ounce of disbelief. Not only had Billy beaten me, but he had also scarred me for life, for I could tell, without having to look at a mirror, that all my hair was gone and was replaced with scars where he had cut too close to my scalp.

I covered my eyes with my hands and let out a hoarse sounding cry of anguish, not caring who heard me. I just needed a release.

* * *

I sat on the chair in our apartment. After a tiring day of exciting events, I needed a break. A break from the Gotham life and a break from those pathetic goons I had employed to aid me in my quest. Playing with my knife, I glanced at the clock and frowned. Alyssa should've been home hours ago. What in the world was taking her so long?

It's been a good four days since I last saw her, since we fought. I can't help but think about it, our first actually fight as parent and child. How could I not think about it? She was right, I'm not around as much as I used to be. She has every right to think that I'm going to abandon her.

Sighing, I drop my knife and lean forward in the chair, covering my face with my hands. I know I've screwed up, but how can I live differently when all I've known for a good seventeen years is the life I'm living now? Granted, after her mother died and Alyssa was born, I took on a few meager jobs because she was a baby and it wasn't a good idea to drag her around so young. Not that I held those jobs for long. My temper and odd way of thinking got me into more trouble than it was worth. So I decided to do it the easy. But I never gave thought as to how Alyssa would feel about it, about not having a decent home and about being moved around.

My train of thought was interrupted by an insistent knocking at the door. Who could that be? Is it Alyssa? Did she forget her key? I practically jumped out of the chair and flung myself at the door. After unlocking it, I wrenched it open so fast I thought it would fly off it's hinges. My excitement was short lived.

Standing before me was a teenage boy, around Alyssa's age. His black hair looked kinda goofy and he gasped upon seeing me. Which was weird, because I took my makeup off when I got home. I grumbled to myself and bit my lip to keep myself from choking the annoying little bastard.

"What do you want, kid?" I must've scared him a bit because he looked down and shuffled his feet nervously. I didn't know the kid, but the fact that he showed up and not Alyssa ticked me off and I wasn't in the mood to entertain some snot nosed brat. That, and the fact that he hadn't answered me yet, was making me grow irritated and impatient. "Well? Are you going to talk or what?"

"Y-yeah, sorry. Um… You're Alyssa's dad…right?" I leaned against the doorframe and stared at the boy. He wasn't as tall as I was and he was petit, making me seem muscular even without my purple jacket on. The idea of my being muscular looking made me giggle, and the kid looked at me in confusion.

"Yep, I'm Alyssa's dad. What does that have to do with anything? What, do you want a prize or something?" He stared at me as though he was in shock. I laughed louder and he winced.

"Something… Something happened at school a few days ago." The boy fidgeted and I stopped laughing.

"Go on, kid."

"Before school about four days ago, Alyssa got…" He took a deep breath and stammered a bit. "Y-you see, there's this jock named B-Billy. And… And he. He got pissed at Alyssa for some reason."

This was news to me. Alyssa never really talked about school, but on the few occasions when she thought I wasn't paying attention, she'd mention some trouble, especially with a bully named Billy. I figured it was just picking, but nothing physical or anything like that. But this boy in front of me was hinting at something physical, and that pissed me off. Grabbing him by his shirt, I pulled him close to my face, lifting him a little bit off the floor.

"What happened to her?! Why are you trying to tell me? Speak, boy!"

With a slight tremble, the boy spoke again. "B-Billy… Billy beat Alyssa up! He… He cut off her hair and… And she's in the hospital."

I was stunned, beyond angry, regretful; there were so many emotions boiling up inside me. After a few minutes, only one remained to topple them all: the need to exact revenge. I calmed down, and looked at the kid.

"And why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I kept coming here everyday, but you were…were never home. A-and I didn't know where you worked…" Everything else was blocked out. I was thinking of what to do, of how I'd get back at this Billy kid. Billy boy. Heh, that's kinda funny.

"Okay kid, shut up. Tell me where she's at."

"Gotham General." I let him go and closed the door. Grabbing my jacket and a few things just in case of an emergency. I was out the door and on my way in less than five minutes, concocting a plan along the way.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Yay! Another chapter has been written! I just hope that it's good! I think I've done the story and the characters justice thus far. Anyway, please read on and enjoy! And tell me what you think!**

**The Killing Joke: And I Thought My Jokes Were Bad**

Ten minutes after the nurse left, the doctor came. He checked me over and asked me a lot of questions that made my head spin. After cleaning and redressing every wound that needed to be treated, he asked me one last question.

"If you are up to it, do you think you'd be ready to go home in two days? Or even tomorrow?" I looked at the aging man as if he were speaking an entirely different language. Go home? Am I really in that good of shape? As if he could read my mind, he continued.

"Your injuries aren't that severe; just a few cuts and bruises. And of course your hair…. Well, you won't be going to school any time soon, so you'll have follow-ups to see how you're doing. I'd be able to provide you with a wig or something then. Anyway, perhaps a few weeks at home would be better for you than being here. The only real concern I have is about the concussion you sustained, but it seems that it's just mild dizziness, or maybe you're just experiencing bouts of confusion. All in all, aside from the bruises, cuts, and dizziness, you're okay. But I'm keeping you here over night, and probably even tomorrow, for observation. You did just wake up after all. Can't be too careful."

It took me a few minutes to process everything he had said. Eventually, I nodded and he smiled, patted my shoulder and left the room. I was alone, which was a good thing because I felt drained and sore and tired. All I wanted was to close my eyes and sleep a bit. I was attempting to do just that when the nurse from earlier walked back in.

"Alyssa, your father's here. He'd like to see you. Now, if you're not feeling up to it, he can come back. But if you're sure you want to see him…" I was already nodded my head. She sighed softly and left. I heard her voice just outside the room, away from my gaze. Most likely, she was talking to Dad, telling him this and that and all that stuff. I didn't care. I just wanted to see him.

Once he did finally walk into the room, I sat up, happy to see him. He looked disheveled, like he had been running for a good while. And he didn't have his usual make up on, but I didn't care what he looked like. I was just so glad that he was here.

"Dad! You're here." He came over and hugged him tightly. I winced, but ignored it and hugged him back, inhaling his scent deeply. It didn't occur to me until just then how much I missed him.

"Of course I here, Alys. Why wouldn't I be?" He released me and pulled over a chair close to my bed and sat down in it. Dad stared at me long and hard and I shifted on the bed, knowing that he was taking in everything that had happened to me. I wonder if he knew who did this and what exactly happened. Probably not. I fidgeted again and coughed a little.

"What are you staring at, Dad?" My voice quivered slightly, and by the way he narrowed his eyes I could tell that he had caught it. The room was quiet - aside from the machines - and neither of us spoke for a few minutes. Leaning closer to the bed, Dad cupped my left cheek and rubbed it softly, grazing ever so gently over a cut.

"My God… What happened to you, baby girl?" His voice was so soft and so strained that I felt like crying. I just wanted to rush into his arms and bawl like a baby, spilling my guts to him. I wanted to do that. But I didn't. Instead, my gaze found the white bed sheets that were covering the majority of my body, and I scratched my arm, not wanting to answer. Not knowing what to tell him.

"I got in a little tussle Dad. I lost. Big time." At that, Dad let out a harsh bark of laughter, although it sounded nothing like it. It sounded more like a growl, a strangled cry of emotion, than laughter.

"Tussle my ass. Alyssa, I know what happened and who did this." I looked up and met his eyes. They burned with so many emotions that I couldn't read, but I knew that he was going to do something. He always does.

"Who… Who told you?" Suddenly, I felt very cold. I drew the sheets up, but they helped little.

"This boy came over… He had black hair. He was shorter than me. Told me he was there when it happened."

"Dwayne…" Dwayne told my Dad about what happened? He told me I was in here? What the hell?

"Yeah, whatever, anyway he told me what happened and where you were. Good thing he did. I was getting worried."

"When did… When did he tell you?" Once more my voice trembled, but not from cold or anxiety or fear. But from anger.

"Just today-"

"Just today? I was out for, what?, four damn days, and you just now decided to care and stop by? What, were you just checking up on me? Is that how you found out?! Were you worried that I might slip up or something and give you away?!"

"Alyssa, it's not like that. Listen-"

"No, you listen for once Dad!" I glared at him, not caring about how loud I was getting or about what I was saying. I was hurt, and I wanted to hurt him just as much as he hurt me. "You think you can just leave me all by myself? You think that there's nothing going on in my life? That I have no problems or anything? If you cared about me at all, then you should've been here when I got beat up! You should've been around! Where were you, Dad? Where were you when I needed you?!"

I hadn't realized that the nurse came in until she injected something into my arm. Carefully, she laid my back down on the bed and tucked the sheets around my body. My breath was coming out in sharp gasps, fueled by the anger that was still left over. Unable to face my dad, I turned away from him, letting him see just my backside. Gradually, my panting subsided, and I was able to breath and speak normally again. The nurse was saying something to my dad and he was arguing back, but I wasn't able to process the words that were being said. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone for now. I just wanted to sleep.

"Just leave me alone Dad. Go away, and leave me alone." I barely recognized my own voice. But I did notice that the room was quiet; no one was talking. Both the nurse and my dad were silenced by my statement. Minutes passed before the nurse spoke up again.

"Sir, you'd better leave. She'll be released tomorrow. You can come pick her up around this time then, okay? All she needs is rest." The sound of feet shuffling about and the door being closed were the last noises I heard before I drifted into a troublesome sleep.

* * *

It was later at night when I woke up again. Although I had sleep for a while, the nightmares I had made my sleep a restless and disturbing one. A nurse was checking my vitals and a moment later the doctor entered, smiling tiredly. He was probably getting ready to go home for the day. Lucky him.

"Good evening, Alyssa. How are you feeling right now? Did you sleep well?" I wasn't sure if my voice would tremble if I spoke, so instead I merely nodded. I wanted to get out of this place and get home as soon as possible.

"That's good. I have some unfortunate news. Due to your rather…upsetting visit from your father, I've decided to keep you until the day after tomorrow. Although your physical wounds seem to be on the mend, I want to make sure your mental and emotional state is in an agreeable enough condition to head on home. You understand, don't you?"

My heart sank and a lump formed in my throat. I wanted to cry, to hit something, to unleash all my frustration, anger, and torment out on the man before me, but I couldn't. If I did that, he'd put me in the nut house for sure. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded sharply and stared down at my sheets, trying to keep myself from crying.

The doctor patted my shoulder comfortingly, and left, speaking briefly to the nurse. Not too long after, the nurse left, and I was abandoned to a dark and lonely room.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So, it's been a while, hasn't it? I fear that _The Killing Joke_ is nearing the end. I haven't much to say right now. So, R&R! Enjoy!!!

**The Killing Joke: It's a Funny World We Live In**

I kept waking up at all hours of the night, mainly due to the nurse coming in and out every two hours or so. At least, it felt like two hours. Finally, early in the morning I think it was, a new nurse came in, taking over the shift as the other left. I was dazed and tired and couldn't focus on anything really. But I did get to read her name tag. Sally. Like that character in that Henry Selick film.

But I didn't say anything, I couldn't, because right after she began the usual check ups, I drifted back to sleep.

I didn't wake up until a few hours later. It was surprising; I got more than two hours of sleep in a row. But everything seemed off. Very off. Like chaos had erupted in the hospital. People were running about, yelling this or screaming that. Patients were being wheeled in chairs and beds. Nurses and doctors alike rushed about. Everyone was panicked and rushing, at least, that's what I saw from my room.

But why?

The nurse from earlier, Sally, rushed to my room. She looked like she was in a hurry, and she spoke quickly, trying to explain everything.

"The hospital is under a bomb threat. You have to get out of here. Most of the patients are already on the buses that are waiting outside to take them to another hospital. Don't worry. I'll help you. Let me just get an officer and we'll be outta here in no time."

She flashed me a kind smile, her brown eyes shining with hope and promise. Or was that fear? And tears? Just as she had when she arrived, she rushed back out into the chaos, leaving me to my thoughts.

A bomb threat?

Here?

But why?

And who…?

It was too much to think about, too much to contemplate and understand. And it was too much for me at the moment. I closed my eyes, wincing, wishing for the chaos to stop and for everything to turn back to normal. I wished for a normal life. For a mother who was dead and a father who gave me up. I wished for comfort and support. I wished for many things, knowing very well that I wasn't going to get any of them. Not ever.

* * *

Nurse Sally always tried to do the right thing. Even when it made her look like a fool or a snitch, she tried. Because the harder she worked and tried, the better off everyone else, including herself, was. But this was a different case scenario. She was screaming at the police officers hauling her away from the hospital.

"Let me go! Let me go right now! Damn it!"

She usually never swore. And her kicking, screaming, and thrashing about didn't make the two officers happy either.

"Ma'am, calm down."

The first officer, a man in his forties, told her.

"No! You don't understand -"

This time, the second officer, a younger man, spoke up.

"I do understand, Ma'am: you're scared. It's okay. I would be too if my place of employment was getting blown up by the Joker."

Now, she was not only frightened, but frustrated and angry as well.

"No, you don't understand! A girl was left behind in there!"

And just like that, everything changed. The two officers looked at her before the younger one shoved her towards the older officer.

"Get her to a bus! I'll go and get the girl!" He started running towards the doomed building, his partner calling behind him.

"No, Dave! Don't go! We don't have any time le-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Just as his younger partner entered the building, the bombs went off. Everything went up in flames or came tumbling down like a pile of building blocks. The older officer pulled the nurse with him and ducked for cover. Luckily, they weren't very close to it, so they weren't about to get hit with fiery debris. Just the debris that decided to go flying.

The nurse was now weeping in his arms as the officer maneuvered through the crowd of people that was still heading towards safety. He had to get them out of there. Gotham had lost enough cops. It was his duty to not get himself, or the nurse, killed. Lord knows, the last thing the city needed was a shit load of dead medical personnel.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long in writing this chapter. Seriously, I don't know what's gotten into me. I guess I've been busy with school and work. And since I'm taking summer classes, I only get a three week summer break.

Okay, I know you are all probably wondering if Alyssa is dead. She is. She and the young police officer, Dave, were both killed when the hospital blew up. The Joker doesn't know that. Yet. I knew when I first started writing this story that she would die. I have a bad habit of writing unhappy endings. I didn't always used to, but nowadays, every story I write ends in sadness and tragedy. I guess because I see the world as a harsh and cruel place, where everything doesn't end happily. Maybe I should write a story with a happy ending nee? Hopefully, if I do that, I'll get over my depression quicker!

Anyway…. Thank you all for being patient with me! Here's the next chapter. R&R. Enjoy!

**The Killing Joke - I Had a Vision**

I don't plan things out. Haven't for a good long time, and I won't ever again. It's not how I work, not how I function or process. I just do whatever and go with the flow of things. But I don't like where this is flowing.

I made sure that each one of my goonies drove the buses that were transporting the hospital patients and staff. After all, I need extra eyes to keep a look out for Alyssa. But so far, all of the thugs I keep around haven't seen her. And I've got the last bus that pulled out, the bus she should've been on.

And she's not on it.

Where the hell could she be? I'm a man of my word; I don't plan things. But I'm going to be damn sure that my own kid is safe and within my reach. Perhaps that in and of itself is a plan. Or maybe that's just how parents are supposed to think and act. Not too sure actually. Considering I'm not a normal parent.

Maybe if I was, I'd know where Alyssa was at this moment.

Of course, it is hard to drive and look at all the faces on the bus at once. Even with the little help I do have along with me, it'd be tricky. After all, none of the people I've 'hired' really know what Alyssa looks like. Stupid ingrates. For gods sake, I keep them around to help me do work. Sure, I kill of couple of 'em. Only those who don't work. Or who bug me when I'm feelin' good. Or those who look at Alyssa like she's a street walker.

But I'm not a bad employer. Just one who knows what he's after and how to get it. And I'm not getting what I want. And all I want right now is to see Alyssa. Even if she's pissed at me.

Pulling the bus into the parking lot of the abandoned building, I sigh in relief. At long last, we've arrived at our destination. The patients and medical staff have been blubbering and crying and annoying the heck outta me since we veered off from the rest of the buses. Although the little help I do have with me has been doing a good job shutting them up, they're being drowned out by the wailing sounds of panic and chaos now. Usually, such noises would be music to my ears. But I have other things to think about.

I turn the bus off and stand up. Everyone hushes now, except a few patients who don't fully get what's going on now. That thought makes me chuckle. For a brief moment, I look through the crowd, scanning every face to see if one of them is Alyssa's. No such luck. Frowning, I turn to the goon closest to me.

"Get 'em off the bus and in costume. I've got some stuff to do. You know what I want. So get it done or I'll blow your head off, 'kay?"

Gulping a bit, the guy nods and I grin. Opening the door, I jump out and walk towards the building. In the background, I can barely hear the guy I put in charge yell at the others and give out the orders. It seems that right now, all I can hear clearly are my own thoughts.

Going into the building, I head to my Head Quarters (the fact that I have an HQ just gets me giggling!) to fix up my Breaking News banner. When you're playing host to a report like Mike Angle, you've gotta have a banner right? Especially since what he'll be reporting really will be breaking news. The people of the city have no idea what's coming to them.

Entering the basement, or HQ, I flip on the local news station. Even I need some noise when I'm being all artsy. And it's fitting that it's the news I'm listening to! Sometimes, I crack myself up. As I take out the white sheet and paint and begin to write my banner out, something catches my ear. Turning around, I watch the news, glaring at it for disrupting my fun.

"-authorities have confirmed that a teenage girl and one officer were found in debris. There are no leads to the identity of the teenager, as all the medical reports were destroyed. The officer however has been identified as-"

I stopped listening after the anchor woman spoke about the girl not having an identity. Because as she said that, a picture of her was flashed briefly on the television. I dropped my paint brush and bit my bottom lip so hard that it bled. Good thing I already had red paint on my face. But I can't concentrate on that now. I shouldn't.

The girl whose picture they flashed… It was Alyssa.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: It's dwindling down. I've got the epilogue after this chapter and the story is complete. Just to be clear, any ( ) that are in the chapter are Joker's inner thoughts. I like to think that he has many inner voices speaking to him all at once. So yeah… Anyway R&R! Enjoy.

**The Killing Joke - Everything Becomes Chaos**

I made sure to 'fire' Mike after our little broadcast (I love puns! They made me giggle to much). Can't have anyone like him bring too much attention. Besides, the only person I want attention from now is Batman. Ol' Batsie. He'd know what I'm going through.

Getting into a little tussle with him would make me feel better. Hell, doing anything with Batty would make me feel better than…than this. After seeing the news broadcasting that my daughter was dead, I went on a sort of rampage. I killed a few guys that I kept around, and Mike got a little beating. But I waited until he was feeling a little better before I made him report his final story.

And to be honest, I'm still not feeling any better. This raw, aching feeling inside of me that appeared when I saw Alyssa's face on the news… Her beautiful face, so much like her mother's, all scratched and burned and looking horrible…

No, I can't think of that now. Of her now. I've got work to do. Though the boys have been sure to steer clear of me. Guess I would too. Not my fault though.

Well, Alyssa's death is my fault.

No! It's not my fault.

But it is. I ignored her, threw her off to the side.

Not true! I did my best to give her a home. A safe place to stay.

Yeah, but look what happened. She got hurt because of me.

No! She got hurt because of that bastard Billy kid! I swear, I'll find him and I'll-

I'll what? The least I can do is kill him. How will that avenge Alyssa's death?

I…I don't know. But it will! I know it will! It has too!

But what if it doesn't? If there's a heaven, or any place like it, she wouldn't want to see me, much less talk to me.

…Then….. Then what do I do?

Try doing things on a large scale basis.

What are you saying?

I'm saying that why should just one kid die for Alyssa? She's worth a whole city, isn't she?

Of course she is! I never doubted that.

Then make the entire city pay. After all, they're as much to blame as I am.

Right. Of course they are.

So the citizens of Gotham will pay. The boats have been rigged. It's the good citizens of Gotham versus the scum. Who will win? Maybe I'll just kill 'em all. Yeah, that would be the best option wouldn't it? Just take all of them out. I don't care who lives or dies now. Alyssa is dead and she can't be brought back, so I'll make the entire city feel my pain. Every family will know what it's like.

Smiling, I pick up the little speaker thingy that's hooked up to both of the ferries. It's time to let them know what they signed up for when they decided to run from me.

Everything is set in place. All I have to do now, is wait. With my goony goons dressed up as the patients and hospital staff, Gordo's men will get the surprise of a lifetime when all hell breaks loose. It'll be so fun! From the little perch a few floor s above the patients and the thugs, I can see the ferries. And I can vaguely see men on the roof of the building opposite this one. Gordon and his little tribe no doubt. Good. Things are heating up.

From down below, I hear a window break and a voice speaks, low, rough. Batman has arrived at long last. Knowing that he has arrived has put a slight smirk on my face, but as I continue to stare down at the boats on the water, it fades. I won't be better. Not until his attention is focused solely on me.

Fighting has broken out now, I can vaguely hear Batman and my goons duke it out. Those poor boys don't stand a chance against Batsie. No way, no how. But then again, that's how it's supposed to be. The only person who **can** match him is me. Just like **he's** the only person who can make me feel better. Better about Alyssa. Now that she isn't here, he's all I've got left. We complete each other, after all. So if I'm damaged, then so is he. And we need to be repaired.

That's it. All I need is Batman. He can help.

Even if he can't take all these feelings away. But am I sure he can help?

Of course I am. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here, pining for his attention.

Is pining really the right word for it?

Yes, it is.

But it's so…childish.

Yes it is, but so am I. I am childish and stubborn, and I always get what I want. Always.

No you don't.

Oh yes I do.

If you did, Alyssa would still be alive.

The dogs start barking, and I look over. At long last, he's arrived, and his cool stare bores into my own, sending giggling tingles up and down my body. Grinning, I my best to sound cheerful at his arrival, and part of me is. But he twitches as I greet him and he knows something is off. That's what I love about our connection.

Just like usual, he ignores my comments and get's straight to the point.

"Where's the detonator, Joker?" That irritates me, just a little. After all my anticipation, that's all he gives me.

"Go get 'em boys!" The dogs rush at him, ready to tear him limb from limb. It's not that I want to kill him, I just wanna see him bloodied up a bit. It makes me feel like I'm not the only one hurting (God, I really do crack myself up! Hehehe).

As I see him struggling on the floor with the dogs holding him down, a sudden rage engulfs me. Rushing forward, I growl as I lunge at him with my weapon, hitting him where ever I can, as hard as I can. I want him to feel what I feel. I want him to know what I've lost and what that's done to me. I want the entire city to know and feel it. And it will.

It will…

It doesn't take him long to push me away (or kick, as Batsie likes it) and he quickly gets rid of the dogs. Damn, and just think of all the time it took to take those dogs and make them listen to me. Of course, it'll take more than a little push to keep me away from my beloved bat. I charge at him again, enjoying the rush I feel when we're like this, in combat, fighting for the city, for everything.

The silly bat tangles himself in a net. He really does make it too easy for me sometimes. I go at him again (gosh, who knew I'd become such a pervert with my old age?) and again, hitting him anywhere I can. After getting him down on the ground, I kneel over him, pulling out my favorite knife.

"Oh, all of the familiar places, right Batsie?" He throws me off (I love it when he's rough with me!).

Dazed, I shake my head and go back at him again, successfully throwing him against a glass window and onto the scaffolding. His upper body is hanging slightly off the edge. I move down on top of him, grinning to myself, blissful that I've got him trapped like this. Seeing him like this makes me giggle. Leaning down close to his face, my grins widens even more.

"Ya know, we really should stop this fighting. After all, there are gonna be some fireworks soon! Wouldn't want to miss that, now would we?"

"There won't be any fireworks!" Ah, so stubborn. Not that I'm complaining, of course.

"Silly Batsie. Just give it a few seconds and…. Hereeee. We. Go!"

I glance down at the boats, a triumphant smirk on my face. And nothing happens. No big KABOOMS or KABLAMS of any sort. I can feel myself twitching. But just a little bit. I glare down at the boats. Still no fireworks. I take a look at the clock. The time is right. Those stupid idiots are just messing everything up! It would figure (of course it would…) that I, like always, would have to do everything myself. Can't a guy get any help (of course not)?

"What was it that you were trying to prove, Joker? That, deep down inside everyone, we're all as ugly and pathetic as you? You're all alone, Joker. No one else is on your side, but you."

Throwing away my pipe, I growl in frustration. And just when he was making me feel better ,he puts me on a downer. Stupid Batsie. Stupid idiots. Stupid stupid stupid! Sighing, I reach into my jacket.

"It would figure. You can't rely on people nowadays. You should just do everything yourself. Figures…" I pull out my detonator and turn it on. The green button flashes. That makes me feel a little bit better.

"It really is a funny world we live in, don't you think? Speaking of which, do you wanna know how I got these scars, my darling Batsie?"

"Of course not. But I know how you got these."

He releases his arm plates and the pointy spike thingies jump out, hitting me in the face. It surprises me for a second. I didn't think he'd do that (but the pain makes me giggle. He did it just for me). Before I even realize it, Batman has flung me over the scaffolding and I fall down, laughing all the way. Feeling the wind rushing past me as I fall down makes me giggle. It's like I've no problems or cares in the world (oh, that's right. I really don't have any).

But of course, being the darling Batman that he is, he gets a grip on me (literally too!) and hoists me up. It's not bad actually, swinging upside down. The blood rushing to my head makes me feel a bit dizzy, but that's a great feeling so I don't mind it one bit. In fact, I want some more.

"Oh… Oh Batsie. You just couldn't let go of me, now could you?" I grin at him, and I see his eyes narrow for a split second. It appears that I've hit something (a nerve perhaps?).

"You've got problems, Joker."

"More than you know, Bats. Why, the other day, Alyssa was telling me-"

I stop mid-sentence. I shouldn't have brought her up. Not again. That raw, achy feeling starts throbbing again. Hissing, I cough a bit, and try thinking of something else. It doesn't work to well. In fact, all I can think about now is her. My Alyssa. She was all I had left. And now she's gone.

"…She's gone."

"Who is gone, Joker?"

"Alyssa. She… She's gone. All gone. Because…of… The hos-hospital. It collapsed on her. Not…not my fault. My…my… My fault. All my fault. Me. My. All…" The tightening in my chest contorts painfully, and I can't repress the choked sob that finally unleashes itself from deep within. The sobbing starts. And I can't control it. I don't want to. It feels good, just like the wind blowing past my face.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Ah, the last chapter, something I both love and dread all at once. I guess some of you are weirded out by the last two chapters. I was trying to get into the Joker's mind and reveal is deteriorating mental state that resulted from Alyssa's death. So all of those arguments between himself and, well, himself come from that break down.

I hope I didn't screw up the Joker's character too badly. The reason it took me a bit longer to update this is because I didn't want to screw the Joker up. I tried to make him authentic, but real and tangible and paternal all at once. So I was extremely nervous about writing these last three chapters. I hope I didn't screw him up too badly!

So, here it ends. The conclusion to this story. It's been fun, tiresome and a lot of work, but fun and enjoyable nonetheless. I enjoyed writing each and every chapter, and I hope that those of you who have read this and continue reading it have enjoyed it as well. Thank you all so much! R&R. Enjoy.

PS: Please leave me feedback on how you think I did on the Joker, especially those last two chapters. I want to improve myself as a writer, so I'm open to any advice when it comes to writing the Joker's character. Thanks again!

**The Killing Joke - Epilogue**

It had been months since the Joker arrived at Arkham. While the staff had been prepared for him to cause a riot (and he did upon arrival) and escape, they weren't prepared for this. They weren't prepared for the Joker to have a complete mental breakdown so severe that it incapacitated him. And what was worse was that no one knew for sure if he was just faking it or not. Being a master of schemes and escape, who knows what the clown was up to?

Regardless, they treaded carefully. Kept him bound and locked in solitary confinement until he was deemed suitable to share a room (which, at this point, was highly improbable). They continued giving him doses of the medication he was assigned. And their doctors tried to coerce him out of his mutterings and stutters, to no avail, resulting in most giving up trying to talk to him.

Gordon sure as hell didn't know what the Crown Prince of Crime was plotting. But he knew he had to get the information to Batman quickly. Although he and his men couldn't figure it out, perhaps the caped crusader could shed some light on it. Which was why he was standing, alone, on the roof of the Asylum, shrouded in the cover of darkness, waiting patiently.

It didn't take long for the vigilante to arrive. Breathing a sigh of relief, Gordon approached him, but kept a distance so no one could see what they were up to. Even after all these months, Batman was still a hunted man.

"Thank God you came. The doctors and staff have tried everything. The Joker just won't snap out of it. No one knows if he really is catatonic or just plotting a breakout."

"What do you think?" Gordon sighed, not sure exactly what to say. He tried his best though.

"I have no damn idea when it comes to that man. I've seen him. Saw him today in fact. He keeps talking to the walls around him, like he's talking to a person. It's hard to understand what he's saying exactly."

"Something to do with an Alyssa?" Surprised at the question, Gordon looked up at Batman. What little of his face he could see (just the mouth and eyes really) remained passive and hard to read.

"Yeah. Most of the time. It's like he's holding conversations with her." They remained quiet for a moment, before Batman spoke up again.

"He's dangerous. A man of no rules or morals. He's mentally and emotionally injured right now. Probably created a state of mind in which 'Alyssa' is alive. Think of it as he's talking to a ghost. He'll probably escape. Keep the staff on guard."

"With these people, that would be asking for a miracle." He turned to look at the man once again, only to find him gone. Shaking his head, he headed back inside to alter the staff.

As soon as he got inside, however, he was rushed by a few doctors and nurses. Apparently, while two guards were transporting the Joker to a new cell, he had broken free and escaped. Not exactly fireworks and huge explosions, but it was the Joker's work nonetheless. Batman was right, as usual. The hunt for the madman was on once again.

And who knows what would happen this time around?


End file.
